


Memories fade, but I'll always be here

by Space_Hawk



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Agni Kai (Avatar), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Because I do love some good angst, But luckily Sokka will provide all the hugs he needs/wants, Gen, He and Zuko both have so much trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentioned Hakoda, Mentioned Katara - Freeform, Mentioned Ozai (Avatar), Nightmares, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sokka is a good boyfriend, Who let me tag?, Zuko (Avatar) Needs Therapy, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, but there is a lot of angst, can we please get these literal children some therapy?, with a bit of Zukka fluff thrown in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Hawk/pseuds/Space_Hawk
Summary: All he could feel was pain. Burning. His face was burning and it hurt so much. “Please,” he moaned.“-ko! Zuko!”Suddenly there was a new touch on his skin. But this touch was gentle, like his mother’s had been. Though the hands were calloused, they felt cool against his arm, offering welcome relief from the fire burning within him.But then the hands started shaking him. Why were they shaking him?“Zuko! You need to wake up!”Or, Sokka wakes Zuko up from a nightmare and the two have a conversation about trauma.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 217





	Memories fade, but I'll always be here

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Descriptions of canonical child abuse, burns.

“You will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher.”

“No,” Zuko whimpered, bowing his head low to the shadow looming before him. “Please, no!” He knew what came next. The pain that would accompany the gentle caress. 

He wasn’t strong enough to go through that again.

“Please, I’m sorry! I’m your loyal son, I meant you no disrespect. Please, no!”

Blood pounded in his ears as the crowd roared around him.

“Please,” he begged, lifting his head to meet the cold, amber eyes staring down at him, but there was no emotion on his father’s face as he cupped his cheek. 

For a moment, the touch was almost gentle. Paternal. And Zuko was reminded of his mother. The warmth her touch had held. The way her soft hands had tenderly caressed his cheek before she disappeared into the night.

But that moment was broken an instant later when hard, calloused hands turned white hot against his skin.

A scream escaped his lips and he struggled to break free, but a second hand grasped his ponytail, holding him tight.

“Please, father, don’t do this!” Zuko cried, choking on the smoke that filled his nostrils.

It hurt. It hurt so badly, like his whole body was alight and the flame was consuming him from the outside in. 

There was cheering. Or was it screaming? All he knew was that it hurt. The touch was gone, but the blinding agony remained. 

And then there was the smell. The smell of burning flesh - his flesh. It was everywhere. There was no escaping it as it forced itself into his airways, choking him. Suffocating him. 

“Please, just make it stop!” he begged. Or maybe screamed. Everything seemed so far away. Even his own voice seemed distant and detached. All he could feel was pain. Burning. His face was burning and it hurt so much. “Please,” he moaned. 

“-ko! Zuko!”

Suddenly there was a new touch on his skin. But this touch was gentle, like his mother’s had been. Though the hands were calloused, they felt cool against his arm, offering welcome relief from the fire burning within him. 

But then the hands started shaking him. Why were they shaking him?

“Zuko! You need to wake up!”

Zuko’s eyes snapped open and he flinched so hard he nearly fell out of the bed. The cool touch on his arm was gone, but the voice was still there, oddly soothing and comforting.

“-ere we go. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Now can you breathe with me? Nice, big, deep breaths for me, just like this.” 

The voice was demonstrating, but Zuko couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating, choking on smoke. On the smell of his own flesh burning. His face was burning and it hurt. It hurt so much. He clutched his face in his hands, body curling in on itself, but nothing could stop the raging fire.

“You’re okay, Zuko. Just keep breathing. In...Out...In...Out…”

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but gradually the burning began to fade and he was able to breath again. Then piece by piece, the room around him slowly came into focus. First it was the bedsheet, warm and soft beneath him as he carefully uncurled himself. Then there was the furniture opposite his bed, just barely visible in the darkness as beams of moonlight snuck through the curtains. It was his room at the palace. 

Finally, Zuko turned his head to the man sitting beside him. Even partially obscured by shadows, Zuko could read the expression of terror and panic written across his face.

“Sokka,” he croaked, edges of his lips turning upwards ever so slightly as relief washed over him. Sokka was here. He was safe.

At this, Sokka’s shoulders sagged, a genuine smile written across his face. 

“Thank the spirits. You really had me worried there for a minute.” 

“Sorry,” Zuko muttered, dipping his head to avoid the concern still present in Sokka’s piercing blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Hey,” Sokka said gently, grabbing Zuko’s hands before he could turn away. “You have nothing to apologize for. Everyone gets nightmares sometimes.”

Zuko nodded, but didn’t say anything, instead letting Sokka’s cool and tender touch ground him in the present.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sokka asked. Zuko let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he continued. “But sometimes I find that talking about them helps.”

“You get nightmares too?” Zuko looked up in surprise, returning Sokka’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice becoming even softer. “When I was younger, I used to get them a lot after my mom died. Even though I had been so little, I still felt so guilty. Like I had failed to protect her. To protect our tribe.” He paused. “I would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying as memories of the raid came back to me. The sounds of battle. The screams of our villagers...The taste of ash in my mouth.” 

Sokka clenched his eyes shut and shivered at the memory. Zuko stayed silent, but gently squeezed his hands in reassurance. A moment later, Sokka reopened his eyes, a grateful smile flitting across his lips.

“Whenever that happened,” he continued. “My dad would always be there for me. He’d carefully wake me up and help me calm down. And then we’d talk about it. He did the same for Katara whenever she’d get nightmares.” Sokka paused again, momentarily lost in thought.

“After a while, they got better. I wouldn’t get them as frequently and when I did, they wouldn’t be as bad. I figured it was just because I was getting older or something like that, but then we found Aang and...they started up again. I was just so worried I wouldn’t be able to protect the people I love, especially after losing Yue. Then there was the Day of Black Sun and they got really bad again. It was my plan, so when it failed, it felt like it was all my fault. I was the reason my dad and everyone had gotten captured.”

“Hey,” Zuko said, cutting Sokka off and forcing him to meet his gaze. “None of that was your fault.”

“I know that now,” he replied, a soft smile crossing his features. “But at the time I just felt so guilty. Almost every night the nightmares would wake me up, reminding me how much of a failure I was. How I couldn’t protect them. It was Katara that helped me get through them. She’d always wake me up and talk with me about them and...it helped. It really helped.” Sokka paused again, shifting his weight.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that everyone gets nightmares, but they’re not something you have to deal with alone. I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about them.” Zuko nodded and took a deep breath.

“When I was thirteen, I begged my uncle to let me into an important war meeting,” he started. “I wanted to show my father that I was ready to take on more responsibility. That I was a strong and capable heir that would be fit to rule the Fire Nation one day...I wanted him to be proud of me.” Zuko paused, lowering his head to avoid Sokka’s eyes, which were boring into him with such attentiveness, it almost made him feel uncomfortable.

He had never told anyone this story before. Most people around the palace just knew. Many of the older nobles and palace officials had been there. Watching. Maybe even cheering, as his father burned half his face off. Others found out afterwards, as his unconscious body was loaded onto a ship and sent far away. As rumors raged throughout Capital City, like the fire that consumed him. 

There were very few people in his life that didn’t know the story of how he got his scar. And those that didn’t simply never asked. But the man sitting before him, genuine concern written across his features, deserved to know. He trusted Zuko enough to bare his trauma and his scars and so Zuko would do the same.

“My uncle let me with the promise that I wouldn’t say anything. At first, everything was fine. I stayed silent. But then…But then one of the generals proposed using the 41st division, entirely new recruits, as a diversion so they could gain ground in the Earth Kingdom. He was going to let them slaughter a whole division of loyal soldiers.” Zuko paused, tightly balling his trembling hands into fists in his lap as anger, just as strong as it had been that day, coursed through him. Hundreds of soldiers, just tossed away as if they were nothing.

Sokka stayed silent, but Zuko felt his hands move to cover his own, steadying them. Grounding him in the present.

“I spoke out against the general’s plan,” he continued, voice barely more than a whisper. “I couldn’t let them sacrifice all those soldiers, so I spoke out against it. But doing so was disrespectful. My father ordered me to fight an Agni Kai.” He heard Sokka’s breath hitch ever so slightly.

“The general. He was the one who…” Sokka trailed off, but Zuko shook his head bitterly in response. He knew what Sokka was asking.

“I thought I would be fighting the general.” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut against the memory as his face began to throb. “But in speaking out in the Fire Lord’s war room, it was him whom I had disrespected...I had to fight my father.” Zuko hated how his voice cracked, hated how weak it made him sound. He heard Sokka gasp, but refused to look at him, to look at the mixture of horror and pity that was surely written across his features.

“Except I didn’t. I couldn’t.” There was no stopping his voice from cracking now as tears threatened to spill over. “I dropped to my knees, begging for his forgiveness.” The scent of smoke and burning flesh that had lingered since his dream came back in full force, filling his nostrils. Suffocating him.

His face was burning. _He_ was burning.

But then there were Sokka’s hands again. Cold and steady, firmly holding his wrists. But not restraining him. Grounding him. Reassuring him.

“You will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher,” Zuko choked out. “That’s what he said to me before he grabbed my face and set it on fire.” There was no stopping the tears from falling now as memories threatened to overwhelm him. The cheering of the crowd. The rough calluses on his father’s hand. The scent of smoke and burning. The pain.

It was almost too much for him. He felt like he was suffocating, but then those cool hands grabbed him and pulled him in close. 

Zuko found himself clutching the soft silk of Sokka’s robes as he openly sobbed into the crook of his neck. The memories threatened to drag him down, but it was Sokka who kept him afloat. From the gentle circles being rubbed against his back and the reassurances being whispered into his ear to the faintly floral scent of his hair, Sokka helped keep the memories at bay as years of pent up pain and tears flooded his system.

It could’ve been twenty minutes later, or it could’ve been two hours, but eventually, all of the tears had been cried, leaving him feeling exhausted and emotionally drained.

He carefully removed himself from Sokka’s gasp, an apology already forming on his lips, but Sokka cut him off before he could even open his mouth.

“Now don’t you dare apologize for that,” he said thickly, but there was the barest hint of a playful smile on his features, earning a small huff of a laugh from Zuko.

“Then thank you,” he replied, golden eyes lifting to meet bright blue. Sokka shook his head slightly, but didn’t argue and Zuko noticed faint teartracks tracing down Sokka’s cheeks, their reflection shining in the moonlight.

“Like I said before, this isn’t something you have to deal with alone. I’m here for you, whether you want to talk or just let it all out. I’m here for you,” he said, once again taking Zuko’s hands in his own.

Zuko nodded in response and they sat in silence for a moment, both enjoying the comfort the other’s presence provided.

Sokka had been right. Talking about it. Being with someone he trusted. It had helped. The memories were still there, but they weren’t as strong. Weren’t as overwhelming. He found that he could breath.

A yawn forcing itself from his mouth, Zuko let himself once again curl up against his boyfriend’s chest as Sokka’s hand immediately began stroking his hair.

“You know you didn’t deserve that, right?” Sokka’s voice was soft, breaking the silence of the room. “No child ever deserves something like that.”

“Yeah. It took me a long time to realize it, but I know that now.”

“Good,” Sokka replied and Zuko felt a kiss being pressed into the top of his head. “Because your dad is a dick who doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.”

Zuko laughed and moved to return the gesture, planting a kiss on the tip of Sokka’s nose.

“Thank you, for everything,” he said seriously and Sokka’s heartfelt smile was the only response he needed.

As he laid back down, body pressed against Sokka’s chest, listening to his heart thrum gently, Zuko let his eyes slip shut. Because for the first time in a long history of nightmares, he was okay.

He was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't even been home for winter break for three days and I'm already bored out of my mind, so what's a better way to pass the time then writing some more Zukka angst lol, especially since my motivation seems to have finally returned after Inktober. I'm always a sucker for "the Gaang finds out about Zuko's scar" fics, so I figured I'd try my hand at kinda writing one myself, except it's only Sokka finding out because I wanted to make it Zukka lmao.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and please leave kudos/a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
